A Helping Hand
by Rover42
Summary: Chell finds Wheatley almost dead in the snow and saves his life. She completely forgives him and doesn't want him to ever leave her again, but Wheatley doesn't understand why he deserves her love and care. Despite what happened in the past, she comforts and helps him as he slowly is restored to his normal, cheerful self. Human!Wheatley x Not Mute!Chell
1. Chapter 1 - The Discovery

**A/N: Hi peeps! Just a little idea I had earlier… this may or may not be continued… not sure at this point… feel free to review and, if you feel like it, please let me know if this would be a good story to keep going! Thanks! ;3**

The wind was bitter cold, and snowflakes calmly drifted around her but she never cared. She just kept walking. The woods trail she followed was not just any trail to her; it reminded her of her freedom. Something she had now that she didn't back /there/. Ever since she was released, she would come back this way and walk this path at least once a month. Walking it gave her strength and reminded her of what she's been through and that she's still alive to tell the tale.

She was nearing the end of the trail when she noticed something very out of the ordinary. Her peaceful, serene state was abruptly broken as her vigilant, quick persona set in. Luckily, with the help of a few doctors and psychiatrists, she was able to speak; quietly, but surely. She walked closer to the unidentified thing on the ground only to discover what it really was.

A man.

His pale blue three-quarter-sleeve shirt was ripped and torn in some places and the skin showing on his body was an unearthly pale, aside from his lips, which were a blue-ish-purple. She took one of his arms and held her fingers to his wrist. His pulse was slow and faint, but he was still alive… barely.

"H-Hello?! Sir, can you hear me?!" she shouted as loud as she could, which really wasn't much of a shout at all.

"I… f-f-find… find… h-her… need… t-t-t-to… s-sorry…" the man whispered in a sleep like state.

"Just stay awake. I'm going to call the paramedics. You're going to be okay," she reassured as she reached into her shoulder bag and pulled out a cell phone and dialed three numbers. After a series of electronic beeps, she heard a woman pick up on the other line.

"Nine-one-one, what's your emergency?"

She explained everything she knew about the man, and where he was.

"Okay, there should be paramedics arriving at you location in less than ten minutes. In the meantime, I would like to know if this man has an identity or a name."

"I-I don't know," she stuttered uselessly.

"Does he have a work badge or driver's license?"

She cautiously dug into the man's pockets to find a wallet or card or something. After a moment she found an old brown wallet. She opened it and searched around for any identification cards.

One card struck her eye.

"_Aperture Science Employee"_

Her eyes scanned the card, and she almost froze altogether when she read the name.

"_Wheatley"_


	2. Chapter 2 - His Identity

**A/N: As it appears, I am going to keep going with this story! I read it to my friend and my brother… both said they wanted more of it, and I've thought about it a lot lately so… why not, right? Alright, that's enough of that… shutting up now.**

Her eyes ripped away from the plastic card to the unconscious person in the snow. It couldn't be… could it?

"W-Wheatley?" she breathed, her chest becoming tight and her eyes clouding up with hot tears.

He didn't move or say anything; she didn't even know if he'd heard her. Carefully and quietly, she leaned down and wrapped her arms gently around him, letting a faint sob escape her as water poured down the sides of her face.

_I thought I lost you forever,_ she thought to herself. In the distance, she could hear the wailing of an ambulance siren, which meant that he would be getting help soon. For the time being, she just kneeled there, in the snow, holding her freezing friend and counting the slow rising and falling motions of his chest.

About three or four minutes later, she heard fast-paced footsteps and the sound of something on squeaky wheels approaching them. She tentatively pulled away from him, stood up, brushed the snow off her legs, and then walked towards the paramedics.

"Are you okay, miss?" one asked her as the other walked over to Wheatley, crouched down, and put a hand on his forehead.

She nodded, and then shifted her gaze to the other uniformed man, who was biting his lip.

"Do you know how long he's been here?" He asked.

"No... I-I found him like this," she uttered as the two gentlemen began to move him onto the gurney.

"He doesn't have that much longer. We need to hurry," whispered one to the other, although she could hear them clearly.

She followed as they each grabbed hold of a handle on either side and started jogging back towards the entrance of the trail.

They finally reached the red and white hospital vehicle, and one man rushed to open the back doors as the other turned to face her.

"Your call saved this man's life, and you are welcome to visit him during to open hours, but I'm afraid we can't allow-"

"No! I'm not leaving him," she cried, trying to suppress the gnawing urge of a sob in her throat.

"Look, we're not permitted to allow other people in the truck besides the patient and ourselves. Now, we must be going... Are there any relatives or friends we should contact for him?"

At that moment, she broke down in tears.

"N-No... He-He doesn't have a family... I'm the only p-person he knows... P-Please let me come. He will be s-so confused and-and alone when he wakes up. Pl-Please," she pleaded, and the medic sighed, then stayed quiet a moment as he rolled the stretcher into the vehicle.

"Alright. I really shouldn't, but I don't have time to argue and honestly, I would feel the same way... Just don't go telling your friends that you were allowed. Okay, let's go, time's running out."

The man who had been talking to her climbed in, and then offered her his hand to help her up. From inside, they closed the doors and started off towards the hospital.

She placed a hand on his forehead but quickly withdrew it and let out a quiet gasp when she felt how cool to the touch he was.

"He's so c-cold," she managed to mumble.

"Yes. From the looks of him and his body temperature, he has moderate to severe hypothermia. If you had discovered him any later, he would be dead," the medic stated as he ran a thermometer against his forehead.

"93.2... Any lower than a 90 and he would fall into an irreversible coma," he said before observing her worried and tearful expression.

"Hey, are you okay, miss?" He questioned again, but she didn't respond. A moment of silence, or as much "silence" as you can get in an ambulance, passed before the man spoke up again.

"How do you know him?"

She was a bit taken aback by this, but answered quietly, "We… worked together... for a while… We were friends."

"You say were... Are you not friends now?"

"It's complicated."

"Okay. We should be arriving very soon. When we get there, you will need to wait in the reception area until one of the doctors or nurses comes out and tells you what room he's in. Okay? I'm sure everything will be fine," he explained, and she nodded.

_Everything will be fine,_ she silently whispered to Wheatley as they pulled up to the emergency wing of the hospital.

_Everything will be fine._


	3. Chapter 3 - Awake

**A/N: The last wasn't the best, I know. It'll get better soon… hopefully. :P If I can find more time like this to sit and write without having to be hauled away to do homework and crap. But don't think I'm giving up on my longer stories! It's just that I have been **_**swamped **_**these past few weeks, so the only things I've been able to come up with are funny little one-shots that come to me at random times (some to be posted soon!).****Anyway, enjoy!**

He didn't want things to end like this. He _really _didn't. All he wanted to do—the only reason he agreed to suffer so much—was to see her. _She _told him that he had no chance of finding her out there, and _she_ was right. And even if somehow he did, she would never forgive him. Not in a million years. How would she be able to after everything he had done? Oh well. It didn't matter.

A warm, soft hand met his and he opened his eyes a bit and sat up.

It was her. The only person who had ever cared for him or listened to what he said was there. Chell.

She smiled upon seeing his open eyes, but he couldn't do anything except close them again and try his best not to burst into tears. The bed creaked as he felt her lean close to the side of his head, and he tensed up, expecting to be hit or beaten for all of his wrong-doings. But instead, she whispered ever so gently and kindly to him the words he never ever expected to hear from her.

"I forgive you, Wheatley."

She wrapped her arms around him as tears poured from his eyes. He embraced her tightly and sobbed into her neck, feeling incredibly guilty, but so very grateful she was here with him.

"Wh-Wh-Why…?" he choked out between his ragged breaths and sobs.

"Because I know you're sorry. I forgive you," she repeated. It hurt to speak and he was at a loss of words, but he uttered the only thing he could believe.

"Y-You can't... I'm h-horrible… and I-I know that. Th-There's no way you c-can forgive m-me for every-everything I've d-done. It-It's not f-fair."

She let go of him and backed up a smidge to look him directly in the eyes.

"What do you mean, 'it's not fair'?" she asked softly.

He hugged his knees as he looked dejectedly at the floor.

"I d-don't deserve your f-forgiveness. I'm t-terrible," he breathed before he buried his face into his knees and sobbed. Chell wasn't exactly sure what to make of the situation, so she sat beside him and stroked his back in an attempt to get him to relax. But when she ran her hand down his back, he recoiled and quietly gasped.

"P-Please don't d-do that…" he faintly pleaded, so she stopped, but wondered why he was shying away from her.

She resolved to cuddle him around the shoulders, the only thing he would let her do—against his favored judgment—and hum a soothing tune as he sat there next to her, quivering and weeping.

* * *

They stayed like that for a half hour or so before Wheatley was able to calm down, although he wouldn't speak a single word to her.

A young, lean nurse came into the room to see how he was doing and if he needed anything.

"Is he alright? Do you know?" the woman asked Chell. She nodded, and the nurse took a step closer and cocked her head to the side in concern.

"Do you need anything?" the uniformed lady questioned him.

"No," he muttered almost inaudibly, still not looking up at either of them.

"Okay. Well… a doctor is going to be in soon just to check up on how you're doing and will tell you how soon you'll able to leave. Alright?" she informed. He nodded, and the young nurse left, leaving only the two again.

Chell found the settling silence very awkward, mostly because she was sitting next to the one person she thought didn't even have the capability to stop talking, yet here he was, silent as can be.

"Do you want to play a game?" she offered gently, but received no answer from him. "How about—"

Her sentence was cut off by the sound of the door opening and someone stepping into the room.

"Hello, miss," the broad doctor greeted her. "I just need to run a few tests to make sure everything's good and dandy here, so I'll just need you to have a seat over there for a few minutes. It'll only take a little while," he explained as he gestured towards a few chairs lined up against a pale yellow wall. He checked his blood pressure and his heart rate with the sterilized equipment.

"Can you just take a deep breath for me?" asked the doctor as he pressed a part of the stethoscope to the middle of his back.

Wheatley yelped and jumped off the bed.

"Uh… N-No… I can't…" he muttered.

"What's the problem? You're here so we can fix you and heal what needs to be healed. Is there a problem with your back?"

She stood up, but stayed in her place as she listened and watched carefully to their conversation. Maybe she'd be able to find out why he didn't want her to touch his back.

"I-I just… don't like… being touched there..." he murmured, as his eyes darted around the room nervously. She knew that wasn't the truth.

"Please just tell the doctor what's wrong. It'll be okay," Chell sympathetically whispered to him and took a few steps towards him. For a second, he stared her directly in the eyes and flashed a worried smile, before looking at the man once more.

"So…?" he began, and Wheatley slowly turned around, staring at the wall while his back was to the other two people in the room. He squeezed his eyes shut and tensed as felt one of them untie one of the knots on the back of the hospital gown he was wearing and expose the flesh beneath. The hand pulled away.

Chell gasped.

**A/N: On a scale of bad to crappy, I would say that this story falls in the "Please Destroy in the Incinerator Immediately" category. XP But thanks to all you peeps who keep reading and reviewing this! You guys are awesome and deserve a cookie. Here. Have a cookie. LOVE IT. But seriously though, thank you all! ;)**


	4. Chapter 4 - Cuts and Scars

**A/N: Yes, I know I left on a cliffhanger in the last chapter. You're welcome. Hopefully this chapter will appeal to all you readers out there, despite how weird it is for me to write and post it… so yeah. Enjoy!**

"How… did this happen, may I ask?" the doctor questioned. Chell was speechless, hands over her mouth, tears starting to cloud over her vision. Wheatley wanted to sink to the floor and just disappear. Make her forget everything that had happened; that he ever existed.

Underneath the fabric, his back was nothing but an enormous and bloody collection of gashes and bruises, many of which looked and felt extremely painful.

"Why didn't you say anything?" she asked in a horrified whisper.

"I-I…" he began to say, but couldn't continue because he collapsed to his knees and started bawling like a child. Chell knelt beside him, not knowing what to do.

"Shhh… shhh…" she hushed as she ran her hand through his scraggly golden hair. He wrapped his arms around her and cried into her shoulder. No one wanted to speak, though the medic knew some things must be said, so he went ahead and broke the wordlessness of the moment. He bent down next to Wheatley, who was still sniffling and hugging Chell, and spoke softly to him.

"It's good that you showed us," he stated with an understanding smile, and she nodded in agreement. "If you didn't, things could've turned out a lot worse. Now, I'm just going to need you to come with me so we can fix this, okay?"

She held him closer to her as he whimpered at the thought of anymore people trying to hurt or even be near him. Although the doctors and nurses here only wanted to help, the one and only person he wanted or allowed to be close to him was Chell. She was so nice and so kind to him, and he knew that she would never hurt him.

"It's alright. They're not going to hurt you. These nice people want to make you better, okay?" she assured, and he looked at the man the way a scared puppy would before, reluctantly, he released Chell and stood up, but didn't look directly at anyone. She stood up after he did and carefully tied the strings on the gown onto loose knots, then patted his shoulder and looked into his bright, crystal blue eyes.

"You'll be okay," she stated once more before the doctor led him out of the room.

_Yes, _she reassured herself, _everything will be okay_.

—A few days later—

"Thanks again for the lift!" Chell called to her friend Jane who had generously picked them up from the hospital and drove them to Chell's house.

"Anytime! And I hope you feel better soon!" she called back, directing the last part at Wheatley, who flashed a small smile and looked at the ground. With a wave, she drove off towards town, leaving the two on the concrete walkway of Chell's pale orange one-story house. He shuddered and cuddled into the navy blue sweatshirt given to him by a kind hospital seamstress who patched his clothes and knew that he would freeze outside if he didn't have something warmer to wear in this snowy weather.

"Come on, let's go inside where it's nice and warm, okay?" she advised, and he nodded. She still felt a bit strange being the talkative one and him the silent one, as it was the opposite back _there_. They walked into the house and Chell brought him into the living room so he could sit down on the light blue couch while she prepared the guest room.

"There we go! All set, with sheets and everything," she chirped as she walked back into the living room and sat down next to him. Wheatley looked into her eyes and opened his mouth a bit as if he were about to say something, but looked away and sighed, returning to hugging his knees once more. She tilted her head in concern.

"Why are you being so quiet? Are you okay?" she asked. He nodded, still not letting his eyes come in contact with hers. He wasn't the same. Before, he was always talking, always cheerful… but now he was so very quiet and gloomy.

_What happened to you? _she thought about asking him, _Where did you go?_

"I'm going to go make some tea with honey and lemon… do you want something to eat or drink? Maybe some eggs and toast? A sandwich?" she queried instead. For a moment, he considered it, but then shook his head.

"Okay," she said, partially disappointed, "but if you decide you'd like something, please come and ask me."

Wheatley nodded again, probably for the millionth time today, and watched her in the kitchen.

_Look how much she's done for you, _he told himself. _You shouldn't give her the silent treatment. Say something to her._

After a minute or two of debating whether or not to do anything, he got up and walked to the kitchen.

"Um…" he began, and she turned around from the counter to face him.

"Yes?" she encouraged.

"T-Tea would be nice…" he muttered, staring intently at the tiled floor. She smiled a kind, wide smile.

"Sure," she answered. Even though it was short, it was something, and she was happy that he at least was talking a little.

* * *

They sat on the couch, sipping the warm drink, neither saying a word. When they were both finished, they placed the cups on the coffee table. Just then she remembered something.

"Oh, how's your back feeling?" she questioned.

"Better," he stated. Chell was quiet another minute.

"How did all that happen? You never answered when I asked earlier…"

He looked away and hugged his knees tighter.

"I-I really don't wanna talk about it…" he murmured.

"Please? It's just me. I won't do anything to you, I promise. I'm just curious," she consoled.

"No…" he whispered. She could hear tears in his wavering voice. As much as she wanted to know, she didn't want to make him bring up the hurt and pain he must be hiding inside, so she simply dropped the subject, but made a mental note to ask about it later.

"Okay. I don't want to push or make you feel uncomfortable. How about… a book? You said you like books, right?"

Slowly, he nodded.

"I have some here… would you like me to read one to you?" she offered.

"O-Okay," he responded, a bit unsure. Chell stood up and disappeared into another room for a minute, but then quickly returned with a thick novel in her hand and plopped down next to Wheatley on the sofa.

"This one's pretty old, but it's actually really good," she said before she blew some dust off the cover and opened it up.

She began reading the old, yellowed pages of the story and soon became lost within the tale with her aqua-eyed comrade by her side.

* * *

For hours they read, until the sun fell behind the trees and a blanket of stars covered the earth, completely unaware of the vast amount of time that had passed.

Chell was starting on chapter fifteen when she noticed him nodding off, but quickly snapping his head up and trying to fight sleep. She put the bookmark in the page, and then set the book on the coffee table.

"Hey," she said as she pushed a strand of hair from his face.

"Mm?" he droned, eyes barely open. She smiled another one of her caring smiles.

"I think it's time for you to get some sleep," she stated with a little giggle. He sleepily nodded and stood up. She took his arm and carefully led him to his bed.

"Just lay down, okay?"

He did as he was told, and she pulled the covers up to his shoulders. Before she left, she leaned over and whispered into his ear.

"Goodnight, Wheatley. Sweet dreams."

And she lightly kissed his cheek.

She could've sworn she saw him smile…

**A/N: Just so it's clear, "Jane" is just the first name that came to my head at the time, and has really no relation to the story or anything. I don't even think I know anyone named Jane… so yeah. Again, as I said in the last chapter, thank you all so flippin' much for the reviews, follows, and favorites. You guys have no idea how excited when I see those notices in my email, but just know this: You all are really flippin' awesome. Seriously. Thank you peeps so much! ^.^ (Oh yeah, and it's not as much as a cliffhanger this time ^w^)**


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